


Are We Underwater Now?

by devilstongueknot



Category: SKAM (Spain), Skam España - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/F, I haven’t even finished s2 yet but I had the idea for this fic and just went for it hope you like it, Light Angst with a Happy Ending, No beta we die like men lmao, There’s almost no crisana fics here?? What’s up with that, mermaid au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:28:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24930814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilstongueknot/pseuds/devilstongueknot
Summary: They always say sound travels faster over water. She can imagine the pounding beats of her footsteps rippling out towards the sea. Maybe the ghosts of her feet would dance along the deck of a far off merchant ship before being carried away again. The old wooden pier shivers slightly under every step she takes.~or, a crisana mermaids au
Relationships: Amira Naybet & Cristina "Cris" Soto Peña, Amira Naybet/Daniel "Dani" Soto Peña, Cristina “Cris” Soto Pena/Ruben (SKAM España), Joana Bianchi Acosta/Cristina "Cris" Soto Peña, Jorge Crespo Gimeno/Eva Vázquez Villanueva
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: implied suicidal thoughts, implied drowning. Let me know if I need to tag anything else.

They always say sound travels faster over water. She can imagine the pounding beats of her footsteps rippling out towards the sea. Maybe the ghosts of her feet would dance along the deck of a far off merchant ship before being carried away again. The old wooden pier shivers slightly under every step she takes.

The wind carries away the sounds of her panting breath; it whistles in her ears, whips her golden hair around her head and into her face. The edge of the pier comes closer and closer and she quickens, her steps battering like a snare drum on the wooden slats.

She can barely see the difference between the sky above and the water below. The midnight fabric of the night sky is ridden with moth hole stars, pinpricks of light shining through to observe her from their lofty peaks, the moon hidden behind silken cloud cover. Below her the sea churns, waves frothing against the pillars far below. The water reveals nothing from twenty feet above, and she only catches glimpses of the water through cracks in the boardwalk.

She wonders, fleetingly, how far down it really is. She knew what would happen is she jumped now, had been warned from ever stepping foot in the waves while wearing a gown. How the layers of fabric weigh down even the strongest of swimmers, which she considered herself to be. Her dress whips around her legs as if to remind her of its presence- ballroom silk isn’t practical for running but it hadn’t been her choice, had it?

How fitting it would be for the waves she loved so dearly to take her one last time. But by god, at least she’d be free of him.

And suddenly she is at the end. And she stops, looking over the edge to the blackness down below. She braces herself, takes a step forward, then she hears the voice.

“What are you doing?

She almost falls from the dock in surprise, then. She turns around to find the voice, and sees only the far off lights, closer than she’d like and some moving closer, and turns back to the sea.

“Who are you? _Where_ are you?”

Then she sees the face in the water below. Her heart stops, skips a beat for just a moment as she sets eyes on the pale face below her. She looked like a ghost in the water, and maybe she was- the ghost of a victim of her beloved sea. She’s experienced the many moods of the sea and knows not all are as contentedly flowing as tonight.

“Hello,” came the voice again. “My name is Joana. And yours?”

”Cristina,” she felt her voice croak. She cleared her throat, trying to hide the remnants of her crying. She had almost fallen several times when she was running, eyes blurred beyond usual by her tears. Her mother forbade her from wearing her glasses to parties, despite the fact she could barely see without them. She rubbed at her eyes with the heels of her hands and looked down.

The girl below, _Joana_ , was swimming in a lazy circle, looking back up at her. Waiting, Cris realized, for her to say something else. Far away a door opened, and for a moment the swell of music escaped into the midnight air, and Cris remembered the swirls of dancing couples inside and once again felt her eyes filling with tears and the panic rush through her mind. There was a splash below, and Cris realized the girl was dancing in the water.

”I love this song!” She smiled up at Cris, who was still standing at the edge of the pier, numb as the wind danced in her hair and on her dress.

”Oh,” Cris said, not recognizing the song at all. “Yeah, this one is nice.” Joana stopped her swirling abruptly, looking up at Cris with shock written all over her face. For a moment Cris felt a pang of guilt, then wondered why- she barely knew the girl. What did she care about the feelings of a stranger?

”Just nice?” Joana said, still looking betrayed. Then she grinned, and Cris felt a wave of relief at her change of tone. She startled again at the strange emotion, but ignored it to focus on what the other girl was saying.

”I come here for all of the parties. They don’t have this type of music where I live, so I just wait here and try to get a glimpse.” _Where I live?_ Cris thought. _Who doesn’t live somewhere that has music?_ Joana spun again in the water, and it was then Cris saw the starlight glimmering on scales.

”You’re a mermaid?” she asked as Joana surfaced again. The other girl didn’t respond, only smirked and flicked a wave of water up at Cris. This time Cris saw for sure the magenta scales of a mermaid’s tail.

”Cristina!” Cris flinched, hurriedly standing up and smoothing down her dress as his footsteps thundered down the pier. _When had she sat down?_

“Cristina,” Ruben panted as he stopped in front of her. “Are you hurt?” Of all the questions she expected from her scorned suitor, this hadn’t been it. “This pier is very unstable! We shouldn’t be out here, your parents are worried for you.” _Worried for her?_ Cris scoffed internally. _More worried about their line, their only female daughter. Not me, just my prospects._

”Let us return,” Ruben said, taking her hand and already leading her back to the castle above them. Cris ignored him as he blabbered on, and turned to take one last glimpse off the pier. The moonlight broke through for a moment to illuminate scales and a splash below, and Cris smiled, letting herself be led back to the party. She barely noticed the proud smiles of her family as she danced with Ruben, her mind still on the dock with the mysterious girl who had probably saved her life.


	2. Chapter 2

It was a week before Cris could return to the sea. Her mother had only allowed her to go down to the little beach below her family’s home if she did something productive, in which swimming didn’t count thank you very much, so Cris had hauled an unused paint set out of storage and brought it down with her, more as a prop than anything else. She had little innate artistic ability, but the arts were considered important to high society, and by association important to her parents. In the end, she had chosen painting because it allowed her to be outside, not because of any particular love for the craft.

She set up the easel at the end of the point, mostly out of view of the beach and the manor above. She had barely begun painting when she heard a splash down below, and saw Joana perched on the shelf where the waves broke, her tail glistening in the salty spray.

“Hello again. Cris, wasn’t it?” Joana said with a mischievous smile that told Cris the other girl certainly hadn’t forgotten her.

“Hello,” Cris stammered, cursing herself as she felt her face going red. _Why was she blushing?_ The other girl just smiled, and Cris noticed the ends of her hair were as pink as her tail. She ripped her gaze away, and pretended to focus back on her painting.

“That’s a lovely painting,” Joana said after a awkward silence. It wasn’t, which they both could see.

“It’s shit,” Cris said bluntly. Joana cracked a smile that had Cris’ heart singing with pride. _She_ had brought that smile into being.

“No it isn’t!” Joana insisted, still grinning. “But maybe try this instead...”

Cris moved the brush to where Joana directed, and tried her best to replicate what the other girl described. The details on the water still didn’t look quite how she had hoped, but it did look considerably better.

It wasn’t the easiest way to teach, with the pink haired girl only able to intervene from the sidelines, but under her guidance the painting slowly began to take on a shape vaguely resembling an ocean. 

“You really do have a talent,” Joana said later, leaning back against the rock face. Cris had joined the other girl closer to the water and the two had sat in comfortable silence for a while. Cris snorted at the compliment, rolling her eyes in equal parts comedy and disbelief. “I mean it,” Joana replied firmly, but not unkindly. “That painting was made by you, not me. You should be proud of it.”

“Well I have a wonderful teacher,” Cris replied instantly, feeling herself again blushing tomato red. She caught Joana’s eye, and found the other girl staring right back at her. The mermaid had eyes the hue of a merchant ship, a deep, rich mahogany, but when they caught the sunlight they looked like molten gold. She suddenly noticed the other girl had moved closer, and found herself leaning closer, too, desperate to be as close to the other girl as possible. And she was so close, close enough she could feel Joana’s breath on her face, as light as the ocean spray on her skin. She slowly tilted her head up as Joana leaned down, her eyes shuttering closed, and

“Cris?” A voice echoed down from the top of the cliff. Cris scrambled, clambering up the rocks back to the easel, brushing the sand from her skirts to little success. Joana watched the scene with barely disguised amusement, but her eyes seemed dimmer than they had before. She turned away from the sun and the gold evaporated as quickly as the moment that had almost happened.

“Out here!” Cris hollered to the voice, her brother Dani, and she could imagine him trudging down the steps and knew she had precious few seconds before he would be on the beach. She cursed herself for picking such an inconvenient spot, knowing she couldn’t move all of her supplies now, and prepared herself for the lecture looming in her future. She knew in the back of her mind she needed to go, to resume the fallacy of painting, but she found herself turning around again, back to the girl still watching her from where they had almost...

Cris caught the other girl’s eye, wondering if her gaze could translate anything she was feeling. Joana simply winked at her and slid soundlessly into the water, the only mark of her presence a tiny whirlpool created in her exit. Cris watched the pink tips of her hair linger a moment, swirling in the vortex before the water swallowed the final trace of the other girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you’ve enjoyed this so far! I have a vague outline of where this fic is going but no definitive posting schedule yet, my motivation comes and goes, Leave a kudos or a comment if you feel so inclined (even if you don’t I’m forever indebted to you for reading) or feel free to drop by my tumblr (@alittleemo) if you want to chat. Thanks again for reading, have a fantastic day <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: vomit mention. Let me know if I missed any tags, or if there’s anything you want tagged in the future.

Cris was drowning. The noble court, with all its glittering dignitaries and elaborate parties, was suffocating her, the air dense and thick and sinking in her lungs. The lights were too bright, the music too loud; even the dancers, with their swirling, multihued dresses and sparkling jewels, made her feel seasick, the skirts and gemstones lingering in her vision like kaleidoscopes.

The intricate braid crown on her head that had taken hours to twist and weave by hand, that she had been so proud of, seemed now to tear into her scalp. Her head felt heavy and she swayed under its weight like sea grass in the wind, barely keeping herself upright.  The massive ballroom windows were closed tonight, as storms were common this time of year. She wished someone would open them, release some of the mingling scents of perfume that clashed against one another and fueled her headache even further. 

Cris wondered if Joana was down at the pier- could she hear the music with the windows closed?

Her silken skirts, laden with pearls and lace, drew an uncanny resemblance to a ball and chain. She wallowed in the excess fabric, barely stopped herself from becoming entangled in her unwieldy skirts time and again. The dress was too extravagant for a night like this one- wealth oozed from every thread- but Cris understood the ploy. Become the brightest object in the room, so no one can ignore her influence, or rather the influence of her family. It was a play to get back into Ruben’s favor, and a desperate play at that.

She knew where Ruben would be- across the room, circling the field, playing the part of the ever polite host. She had been watching him out of the corner of her eye, praying he wouldn’t approach her. She shifted restlessly: smoothing down her skirts, taking proffered glasses and delicacies from platters only to place them down again, barely smiling when Amira waved at her from the dance floor, so happy and _in love_ as Dani spun her around the floor. She felt something pull from deep in her soul, and she sank even further into her chair, an inexplicable feeling of longing anchoring her in place.

Not a moment after she spurned a potential dance partner, Cris felt her mother’s hand settle on her shoulder. She knew Hugo would be accommodating- he had always been kind to her- but her mother was a different story. She braced herself for the look of barely concealed fury as she turned around.

“You have not spoken to Lord Ruben,” her mother accused, a fake smile shining benignly on her face. An innocent chat between mother and daughter, to the casual observer. Cris could smell the reek of alcohol rolling off the other woman, and paired with an ineffective shield of noxious perfume, she wanted to gag. “He is still willing to make you his wife, even after you utterly embarrassed yourself previously. You would do well to speak with him before the night is over. Do not ruin this chance for us,” she hissed, then slid back across the room to her husband. Her words crashed into Cris over and over again, slamming her further into her panic. 

The nausea Cris had fought all night suddenly threatened to erupt, and she took her leave from the ballroom, wandering the halls until she found the entrance to the garden. As soon as she was blocked from the view of those grand windows, she threw up into a rose bush. She coughed and her head pounded, matched in time with the drum beats she could still hear from inside. Her braids felt like they were tearing from her scalp, and she wished she could loosen them. She took a handkerchief from a pocket and dabbed sweat from her face with a shudder.

“Are you alright?” The voice came softly from behind her and Cris whipped around at the sound, trying to channel every bit of her remaining dignity into reassembling a noble stance. The trick had served her well many times before, and only her etiquette teacher would have noted the tremble to her shoulders, and the chip in her smile. She could hear Señor Pedro’s voice even now, repeating one of his many mantras- _Be polite before you take flight, when making impressions you must make them right._

In an alcove enclosed by topiaries was a couple, looking at her in concern. They had been clearly making out before her intrusion- the girl’s hair and dress were noticeably disheveled, and the boy had a smudge of her makeup on his face. Cris vaguely recognized the girl as a Villanueva, or was it Vázquez? Emma, maybe, or Ava? She felt like she should know the boy, but couldn’t quite put together who he was. She assumed the girl had been the one to speak, the boy looked like he would have been more content to pretend they weren’t there.

“Is there someone we could get for you?” The girl asked again, ignoring the pointed look her companion sent her. “A companion, a friend? Your husband?” _Your husband._ The word was expected, but Cris choked on it. The girl seemed even more alarmed at the reaction her words had elicited, and Cris wanted to assure her it wasn’t her fault, but couldn’t quite articulate it.

“No, I’m fine, thank you.” Cris stumbled over the words, so unlike any of the steady speeches she had rehearsed, before curtsying and fleeing with the remains of her dignity. The door to the garden soon closed behind her, but she could still feel the couple’s stares on her back. 

The palace was labyrinthine, in the style of the Lord’s homeland, and in the dim light Cris practically couldn’t see at all. She cursed herself for leaving her glasses at home- the one time she truly needed them, of course she hadn’t brought them. The shame of being caught wearing them would have been preferable to falling down a set of stairs in her unwieldy skirts, which had almost occurred on too many occasions.  Cris wasn’t even sure how she had found herself at the mouth of the palace, leaving a footman with directions to inform her parents she felt ill and was leaving. 

“And my apologies to His Lordship for my early departure. I had a lovely time,” Cris said, lying through her perfect smile. Her face felt like a porcelain mask, painted on and hardened to a shine, but she could feel a hairline fracture snake its way down her face. The footman bowed, and she curtsied in return before moving away.

She knew her parents would be furious, but she couldn’t stay for another minute. Restraining her urge to flee outright from the palace, she made her exit with as much grace as she could muster, the facade leaving her expression the second she stepped out into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter, sorry it took awhile, I wasn’t quite happy with it before but I think it turned out pretty well. Also, I finally finished s2 and s3 and I have to say Skam España has done an excellent job so far (I haven’t been able to watch s1 unfortunately but I’m really excited for what s4 will bring!!) Above all though I adored the girl squad’s dynamic, so much that I’ve revamped the story a bit to find ways to incorporate them more. Leave a kudos or a comment if you enjoyed, or talk to me on my tumblr @alittleemo!! Anyways love y’all have a wonderful day/night <3


	4. Chapter 4

It was cooler now, the breeze beginning to fill in preparation for a storm, but the water was still sun warm from the heat of the day. Cris’s family had arrived home in a fury, but Cris pretended she was asleep to delay the inevitable for at least a few hours. Thankfully her mother hadn’t looked too closely at her sleeping daughter, who was still swathed in her formal clothes. Now, she swirled her feet through the water, stockings and shoes already abandoned back on the beach. She trailed her foot in a figure eight, watching the water ripple out and down, creating little whirlpools in her wake.

She slipped a little deeper into the water, bunching her skirts around her legs to preserve them. A stray barnacle caught on a piece of lace and she instinctively blanched at the sound of a tear. She knew she couldn’t risk damaging the skirts further, despite their ugliness, and they were probably already decaying every second she sat on the salty cliffs. 

Cris removed and deposited the skirts on a dry stretch of rock, then reached back and fumbled at the strings of her corset. She came tantalizingly close to the strings, even grasping them with her fingertips, still couldn’t quite gain a hold on them. She sighed and leaned back, resigning herself to an accustomed discomfort.

“You want any help with that?” Cris started as Joana’s face appeared out of the water, her face so pale it almost appeared like a reflection of the moon above. She had expected the girl to still be at the party- the Lord’s parties were known for running practically to dawn. She wondered again if the mermaid had been able to hear the music with the windows closed.

“You can try,” Cris replied easily, despite the heat she could already feel flushing her face. The mermaid swam to the rock face and pulled herself up beside Cris, the magenta scales of her tail glittering faintly in the moonlight. Cris turned to face her back towards the other girl, holding her breath. She couldn’t trust herself to breathe.

Cris could feel Joana’s fingers unlacing the corset, finally, blessedly loosening its restraints. Feel the brushes of her hands against the fabric of the dress, the dance and flutter of the fabric leaving fleeting holds against her skin. The click of the hooks releasing their strings, unloading their tension until Cris was able to pull it over her head and place it with her abandoned skirts.

“Thank you, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to take that off,” Cris sighed, leaning back against the rock face. She shivered as a breeze billowed through, the light fabric of her under dress doing little to protect her from the bite of the breeze. The mermaid laughed, and Cris can’t quite tell what she’s laughing at.

“I bet,” Joana said finally. “That can’t be beneficial to your lungs.”

“I manage,” Cris replied, quick as an arrow. “I can still swim out to the breakwater without breathing, so I wouldn’t say it damages too much.”

“Oh, to the breakwater, very impressive,” the mermaid replied, eyes shining with amusement.

“Are you making fun of me?” Cris gasped in mock shock. The other girl opened her mouth to defend herself, but a laugh bubbled forth before she could, the mere sound sending another rush through Cris’s body. Laughing too, she playfully shoved the mermaid towards the water, but Joana managed to wrap a hand around her arm, and dragged Cris into the water after her. 

The water wasn’t quite as warm as she had thought it was. Cris came up sputtering for air, laughing and choking on water as she did and then laughing again. She spun around to look for the other girl, only to see lapping open water behind her. She spun again, around in a full circle, and still nothing. Only the distant reflection of the moon above marked the surface of the water.

“Joana!” She hissed under her breath, worried about the sounds potentially drifting back up the cliffs to the manor above.

“Joana!” she hissed again, and then there she was, bubbling to the surface with a laugh.

“Aww, were you worried about me,” Joana laughed, beaming at Cris in full force. Cris felt like the full force of the sun had to be contained in that crinkling smile.

“Oh, so worried,” Cris responded in the same sarcastic tone, splashing at the other girl to hide the growing blush on her cheeks.

“I can hold my breath for a long time, cariña, you don’t have to worry about me,” she replied, splashing lightly back.

“Well, I bet I could hold my breath for longer than you,” Cris said, cursing herself even as she said the words. _Challenging a mermaid, who lives underwater, to a contest where she holds her breath underwater?_ Maybe the corset was affecting her brain instead of her lungs.

“Oh?” Joana replies, eyes bright with mischief. “Let’s test that theory.”

The two counted down together.  _ 3, 2, 1. _

The noise disappeared as Cris ducked under the water. The sounds of the wind and the waves, the occasional bird crying over head, even her own thoughts: all was blanketed by the muted silence below the surface. 

She blinked her eyes open, and cursed the way the water stung her eyes. Suddenly, Joana’s face appeared in front of her, cheeks puffed comically wide in an obvious mimicry of Cris. 

Cris laughed despite herself, clamping her hands over her mouth in horror as she released some of her saved oxygen. Joana swam forward and tapped Cris’ hand, which she slowly removed from her mouth and nose. 

_Cheating?_ The other girls eyes asked mischievously.

Cris closed her burning eyes as she felt herself running lower on oxygen. She was a strong swimmer, and could hold her breath longer than any of her brothers. But could she hold out against a mermaid? 

With her eyes closed, Cris could only feel the current as the other girl swam towards her and pressed her lips gently against Cris’s. Her eyes flew open and she shot to the surface, heart racing and her mind spinning. Joana popped up a moment later, expression carefully triumphant, like she wasn’t quite sure if she had made a miscalculation.

“You cheated,” Cris gasped, still taking in heavy breaths of air. She asked herself again why she thought this challenge had been a good idea. 

“Me, cheat?” Joana said in mock surprise. “Never.”

“I demand a rematch,” Cris replied, tilting her face imposingly. Cris knew how to work her features to her benefit- those dreadful etiquette classes hadn’t all been for nothing. Besides, she had a feeling Joana wouldn’t disagree.

“Oh I suppose I’ll allow it, if it’ll make you feel any better,” Joana sighed. The two girls counted down together once again.

_ 3, 2, 1. _

Cris gladly returned under the surface, feet scraping the sandy sea floor and bouncing lightly off the ground again. She braced herself and opened her eyes again, wincing against the onslaught of salty water. 

Joana’s hair fanned out behind her, the magenta tips floating to and fro in the current. Her tail flicked and Cris watched the scales glitter even in the muted underwater light.

Even with her blurred vision, when her eyes drifted to Joana’s face she could see the other girl staring back at her. Watching, waiting. Cris pushed off the sea floor and swam towards the other girl, and pressed her lips against hers. She cupped her palm to Joana’s cheek, and Joana kissed her back, the two slowly exhaling their remaining oxygen for the other, their air bubbles floating to the surface.

Cris felt her lungs begin to burn, and moved to pull away from the other girl. Joana’s hand curled around her waist instead and with a sharp kick she brought the two to the surface. Cris gasped with relief when they broke the surface, lungs filling with the cool breeze, and she leaned forward and pressed her forehead against the other girl’s, reveling in the blushing response it received. She ran her hands along the mermaid’s face, kissing her harder now that she had the oxygen to spare. Joana replied with equal enthusiasm, slotting her lips with Cris’s and her arm still wrapped tightly around her waist, keeping them both afloat. 

Cris felt like she could live in the moment forever. The glitter of the midnight waves, the stars blinking up above, the spark of a storm in the air and in her heart. She could spend infinity in this moment, under the moon with Joana in her arms, and forever would never be long enough. 

Because forever never lasts. Does it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me writing this chapter: what if,,,, Joana took off the corset,,, ugh the inherent intimacy of it all  
> Also can you tell i had no idea how to end this chapter lol I’m usually not this melodramatic but I just wanted it Done  
> Hope y’all liked it!! Sorry I’m so inconsistent with my posting. Let me know if I need to tag anything.
> 
> Also, for non nautical folk a breakwater is pretty much a wall of rocks at the edge of a harbor that protects the harbor from waves <3


End file.
